Dream of Tomorrow
by horsegal628
Summary: Sarai's life is awful. Her father beats her,and a boy in her school has his gang beat her up when she's weak. All she wants to do is get through highschool and then go far, far away. Then a new boy NOT Inuyashashows up and everything begins to change...
1. Prologue

Here's a new story I started work on…don't expect an update anytime soon. I hope you like it (it's very short tho…) R&R!

Okay, so this is the _real _prologue for Dream of Tomorrow…sorry if you liked the other one, but I realized that it doesn't fit the story.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Inuyasha…if I did, would I be writing FANfiction?

* * *

I have a daughter. She's beautiful, and I love her, but lately she's been quiet and reclusive. She probably blames me for what happened to her mother. I _had_ a wife. She was even more beautiful than my daughter. I loved her laugh. I had a son, too, but he left me with my wife. And my smallest daughter…I still dream about her sometimes. The daughter I never really got to know. She was only a few weeks old when I last saw her. Some might say 'at least you have your oldest child.' I thought that for a while, but she's started avoiding me. So now, all I have is beer. 


	2. All Because of Yesterday

A/N: Chapter 1…finally. No promises about when chapter 2 comes out, though hopefully it will be up after I update Healings of a Broken Heart and Child of the Lost.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Inuyasha, or his fluffy ears. But I own Sarai. And Akito. And everyone else. So there!

**Dream of Tomorrow**

All Because of Yesterday 

I can still remember that time, back when we were happy. Back when he truly smiled. I remember my mother's kindness, and the laughter of my little brother. I remember my baby sister; so little, so new, so perfect.

_But with every good memory, comes the bad._

X.x

I walked up the steps of my high school, pulling my jacket more tightly around myself. "Welcome to another day of hell! I hope your day is total crap!" I muttered to myself in a falsely bright voice.

I opened the door and began to walk down the hall towards my locker. Someone who wasn't paying attention to where they were going slammed into me, their elbow jamming into my shoulder. I yelped, and dodged them as they fell before I tore off, headed for the bathroom, and followed by the odd looks people gave me.

I went into the bathroom, and entered a stall, locking the door behind me. I took off my jacket, and inspected my shoulder.

"Thank God," I whispered; the wound on my shoulder had not reopened, although it was throbbing. Not that I believed in God, it's just that some habits refuse to be broken. I put my jacket back on, careful of my other cuts and bruises. As I walked out of the bathroom I sighed, wishing I could put ice on my shoulder.

When I finally got to my locker it took me five minutes to get it open. "Goddam locks," I muttered. I put my stuff away and got out my book for English, which was my first class. I still had an hour to kill before school actually started.

"Wow, I must be seeing things! Look who's early," a sarcastic male voice remarked from behind me. Turning around I saw Akito. I swear, he _lives_ to torment me. What a pathetic reason to live. "Couldn't wait to see us?" he smirked. Sometimes he reminds me of dad. Or at least, how dad acts when he's drunk. Except without the slurred speech, and a lot better aim.

"You wish," I retorted and stalked off, leaving him and his gang behind. What he doesn't know is that what I see at school is a lot better than my home life.

Suddenly an arm snaked around my waist; sometimes I can't believe the things he does…but he was stupid. Without realizing it, he chose my good side. (A/N: the one without the shoulder wound) "You can't walk away from me so easily," he whispered in my ear.

I grabbed his arm and used it to thrown him over my shoulder. "And yet you seem to be able to piss me _off_ so easily," I told him. When I threw him he had slammed into the lockers. He got up now, growling angrily.

His gang began to advance, each of them either scowling or smiling maliciously according to their natures. Akito stood back, smirking, "Give her a good beating, and when your done meet me behind the school," he commanded before stalking off.

I was able to easily stop the first few blows. I caught each punch and jumped out of the way of their kicks. I managed to throw a few punches of my own, but my shoulder was starting to burn. Soon I was aching all over. Distracted by the pain, I didn't see the blow headed for my shoulder. It hit me square on my wound. I yelped and fell to my knees.

The boys laughed and kicked me a few more times before leaving to join Akito. I bit my lip, trying not to cry from the pain. The dampness on my shoulder told me that my wound had reopened. I stood up, gathered my scattered books, and slowly walked back to the girl's room. The blood had already soaked through my shirt, which was exactly the reason why I wore a black one.

I got the extra bandages I had with me out of my pocket. _'How did I know this was going to happen?'_ I thought grimly. After re-bandaging my shoulder, I put my shirt and jacket back on and grabbed my books. The halls were starting to fill with people as I left the bathroom; the sounds of talking, laughing, and lockers slamming resounded on the tiled floor and graying walls. I glanced at the clock: only 5 more minutes until English.

As I walked down the hall I caught sight of Arisa, my former best friend. There's a lot of shit between us that mainly circles around the fact that she and her family believe I am responsible for my mother's departure from us. But I don't need to worry about that _now._ Not with things as they are.

As I walked by she gave a too sweet smile, "Hey Sarai. Nice eye! Maybe you should take off that hat; I almost couldn't see all the pretty colors." I kept walking, giving her the finger over my shoulder with my right hand and jamming my baseball cap more tightly onto my head with the left one. My ears began to ache from being so squished, but I was used to it.

Judging by Arisa'a comment, Akito's gang had blacked my eye…not that I was too concerned about it. I had gone to class dozens of times with blacked eyes; the teachers never said anything. They knew Akito and his gang beat on me, they just didn't really care. But I guess you could say they had a good reason. Two, to be exact.

I reached the classroom and took my seat. I like English; it's my second favorite class. For one thing, the teacher is not that bad. At least, unlike all the others, she hates me, but she doesn't express that by humiliating me in front of everyone else. Another reason I like English is because I like writing. Mostly I'm just good at writing songs, but I like to write other kinds of things, too.

There is one thing about English that sucks, though. Akito sits next to me. He slid into his seat and glanced at me. "Nice eye," he smirked. I already felt bad enough; I didn't need this from him, not today.

"Just leave me alone," I told him quietly, trying to keep the pain out of my voice.

He laughed, "What'd they do, hit you on the head? Normally you have at least _some_ semblance of a comeback…it almost makes me want to know more about you."

"You better keep that almost in there, shitface, if you don't want me to beat the crap out of you tomorrow," I muttered.

"Only tomorrow?" Akito asked with a smirk, "You're lowering your standards, normally you would just do it after school."

I glowered at him, "I'm busy."

"Sure you are," Akito responded in a way that was complacent enough to show me that he didn't believe me.

I shot him a glare, but didn't respond because the teacher had started talking. The class passed quickly, we were learning about a kind of poem called a pantoum, in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza are also used in the next one, as the first and third lines. We read a few and our homework assignment was to write one of our own. I could feel mine, already forming in the back of my brain. It was dark, with words like 'blows' and 'blood', and perhaps some shattered glass on the floor. My life in a few lines.

But for now I just had to get to math. I stood up and slowly gathered my things; only a few kids were left by the time I was done. I walked slowly toward the door, all too aware of every cut and bruise on my body. I had known today would be bad, so why was I being so weird about it? '_Just_ deal,' I told myself, '_You've had worse._'

I made my way toward the door, and out into the hall. On any other day I would've noticed Arisa standing by the door, sticking out her foot. Any other day I would've easily stepped over her foot, or pretended to trip and, as I flailed my arms because I had 'lost my balance,' I would push her over by 'mistake.'

But not today. I had know it was going to be bad, so when I found myself in the middle of the hall floor, books, once again, scattered every which way, why was I so upset? Arisa smirked and stalked off with her two 'friends.' You know from the way they smile at each other that they can't actually stand each other.

It's then that I noticed Akito, he's standing nearby, pulling off a smirk a million and two times better than Arisa. I forced my face into a scowl. '_No tears; you've taken worse. Just_ deal.'

I slowly stood up, my head spinning, and walked over to the lockers. I leaned against them, waiting for the room to stop circling around me. Sometimes I believe that these pains, the throbbing that lasts for hours, are the worst kind. But then again, I always change my mind as soon as I feel the sharp ones.

Then there's a hand on my arm, and Akito is there next to me, putting my arm over his shoulder, helping me down the hall. "Why are you doing this?" I moaned, becoming dizzy once more just from moving.

"Why do you think?" he muttered with a glare, "I don't need your death pinned on my gang."

I wanted to answer, but I couldn't because I thought I might throw up if I opened my mouth. Akito gave a frustrated sigh and helped me out the front door and down the steps. I almost blacked out at the bottom of them, and Akito had to hold me even tighter to keep me from falling. It was so weird that _he _would be the one to help me. We both hated each other, you could feel it in his touch, and see it in the way I barely accepted his help, so why did he feel the need to do this?

We reached one of the benches on campus and sat down. I put my head between my knees so the blood would flow back to my brain, which helps to keep conscious. I took deep breaths, wishing that I could just lie down and die, and knowing I couldn't. I had too much responsibility. Akito was leaning against the back of the bench, watching me. I thought for a moment, considering. Akito thought I was badass. From the way I fought his gang so well on my good days, he probably figured that I was some high-standing member of another gang; in fact, he once asked me what gang I was a part of. He would assume whatever wounds I had were from fights on the streets, and know that these were not something I could go to the school nurse about.

I unzipped my jacket, and slid it off far enough to leave the middle of my arm bare. My shoulder was soaked in blood, and it was still bleeding sluggishly. I got the bloodstained washcloth I had cleaned it with earlier, and put it on my shoulder, applying pressure to stop the flow of blood.

Akito's eyes grew wide when he saw how bloody my shoulder was. "How the hell'd you get such a bad wound?" I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was hoping whatever gang came after mine wasn't headed for his next.

"It's not that bad," I told him, sitting up and leaning back against the bench, "when it's not bleeding this badly it looks very small and harmless. It's just deep is all," I frowned, "and one of your idiotic 'boys' had to punch it and make it open again."

"Whatever," he muttered, "But I asked you how you got it." That is exactly why I hate Akito. Even if his gang didn't beat on me, he would still piss me off to no end. He is one of those guys who thinks you can't possibly have anything interesting to say, so he dominates the conversation. When I first met him, I thought he looked like an ok guy. Shaggy brown hair, clear blue eyes, his own sense of style that was obviously rebelling in some way, which I respect. But then I saw the coldness in his eyes, and heard the way he dismissed whatever you said without a second thought if it wasn't what he asked to hear. And that's when I started to hate him. Of course, he hated me since the moment he arrived at our school two years ago. He may claim to be 'different,' or say he's not influenced by others, but when it comes to me, he was completely sucked in to the mutual hatred between me and my school.

I glared at him and shrugged. "The other guy was faster than me." It wasn't a complete lie; Dad _is_ a lot faster than me. But what Akito didn't understand, was that I would never have allowed myself to get a wound this bad from anyone else. With anyone else, I would have fought back.

My whole body was aching, my shoulder in particular, and these thoughts brought back the biting pain in my heart. Today had been awful, and it was all because of yesterday. I was starting to hate all yesterdays as much as I feared and loathed tomorrows.

I wasn't quite as light headed now, and I thought I could probably walk on my own if I tried; but first, there was something I needed. "You know," I told Akito, "This was the second time."

He looks at me funny, "Second time of what?"

"But it doesn't mean anything, right?" I asked, ignoring his comment and continuing, "It means nothing? It's not going to happen again." I'm asking him with all of my heart, though he doesn't know it.

"What the hell are you talking about!" he's pissed, now. Pissed, and confused.

'_Of course not, never again._'

I smile, and it grows into a delighted grin. I know I must seem crazy, but I need this, even if in my heart I know I'm just pretending. "Really?" I say, joy flowing into my voice, "Thanks so much!" Thanks, for being there for me in the strangest of ways.

I've stood up, and I walked away. From behind me I heard Akito mutter, "Crazy bitch," and I grinned because as long as it never happens again, everything will be ok. As long as I'm there…and there are only two more years left of this. And if, no _when_ I live through them I can leave, go off on my own. Maybe to college, or maybe just away. But this is good enough for now.

'_Yeah,_' I think, '_you don't have it that bad. You'll make it. You just have to wait a little bit longer.'_

X.x

A/N: I have to go because there's about to be a thunderstorm, and the web will be unplugged…I don't really have a lot to say except this: Please review!


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